Fingon the Snow-Elf
by LadyPorpoise
Summary: Hmm. I wonder what that means? (plays a certain song) :) Fingon becomes a snow-elf, unwillingly. Happy seasons :)


_A/N Something during the night... *sigh*, lot of things happened, haven't been able to finish anything to update my other two Silms, etc. etc. Don't leave me ._._

 _ANYWAY, something for the season :) And I hope it is funny. Might find some reference to a movie. :)_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own the things. Nor The Wizard of Oz._

* * *

"This, has to be the worst idea you have ever conjured up."

"How so? We got out and about. That was the intention, yes? Snow is an interesting thing. And it is so cold…"

"YES, I KNOW IT IS COLD! I AM BURIED IN IT YOU IMBECILE!"

Maedhros winced hardly and pressed his hands on both his ears at Fingon's scream. Alright, maybe this was not such a good idea. But, to the events leading up to this point…

The eldest Fëanorion happened to be in Tirion at the time. Do not ask if it was on business matters or because he felt like it. Likely because he felt like it and stress levels were high. Anyway, best friends he and Fingon were, they decided to have an adventure, among the other bad escapades that somehow happens when they are alone. To assuage the inevitable, so they hoped, Fingon convinced Turgon to come along too. Turgon was not as willing, what with being a prince that has obligations to the Noldor population (not really at this point, since there were how many royals that can do most the work?), but by being free and having a fancy desire of climbing mountains, headed to Taniquetil. They did not stay on the main trail, no, nor were they anywhere near the Vanyar settlements. Too many colors.

Now, snow, as Maedhros said, was an interesting substance. Soft, hard, mushy or fine, and cold. Elves did not feel cold, especially since there were hardly any cold seasons in Aman. Still, this high up, thin air, and inadequate equipment, someone was bound to feel it.

Turgon happened to be somewhere "over the rainbow, where birds fly", because he wanted to explore and admire the view that came with being up so high. So when the only monitor was gone, something was bound to happen. Fingon wanted to dream, in the snow, but he was actually quite tired from the climb, so he slept. Maedhros, being the first son of Feanor _and_ inherited some of his fiery personality (in a good way), stayed awake and used his brain. As many know, whenever a Fëanorion who is not Maglor or Caranthir thinks, bad ideas tend to come up. It was not a _bad_ idea but nor was it a really good one.

Maedhros had fingered some mithril strings he _conveniently_ had with him at the time, and made a snow-elf…while Fingon slept deeply.

Presently…

Maedhros removed his hands cautiously while looking at a red-faced son of Fingolfin. The gold strands woven in the braids glittered nicely in the light of Laurelin, well, whatever rays could shine so high. The slender stick arms looked nice as well...

"Wake up, Maitimo!" Fingon yelled again and vainly jerked forward, only to be restrained by the mithril and the tightly packed snow around his body. With a huff and a bit more squirming later, "What in the high stars and lowest caverns why? I _might_ have allowed this if you consented with me first!"

"You can say that this is for burying me in the sand, right near a sink hole for that note." Maedhros sighed, "Come on, at least admit this is entertaining!" The red-haired grinned broadly.

Fingon was silent for a while, "…I'm cold." To elaborate the point, he shivered as best he could.

"Wait for Turucáno to come back and see, please? Think of the cheer it may bring for the others with the mental picture!"

Fingon also mulled over this, though he frowned at his brother in heart, "I'm cold."

Maedhros kept the smile, "I will let you do _whatever_ you wish after this. Where has your optimism gone?"

"I wonder also. It probably does not have anything to deal with the fact of my rude wakening!" Fingon remarked sarcastically. He really was not liking this feeling of being trapped. Though speaking of optimism, warm blankets and warm drink sounded appealing...

"Ai!" called a new voice, "You must see the sights to the west! The Trees are marvelous, and the distant sea more so!"

"Maitimo," Fingon whined, "Get me out, now."

Maedhros looked sad, "Please, just this once? This was not even an accident."

"That part is the problem."

"I will do whatever you want!"

"FINE!"

"What in the light is the loud noises for?" Turgon called out.

Fingon tried to hide, Maedhros tried to keep a straight face, though he was way too mirthful to contain it. Turgon was in view now. Any moment now…

Turgon was a rather stoic elf when he was not enjoying himself immensely, such as appreciating natural sights. It can be a bit difficult to get him to laugh…

Said elf fell serious at the abrupt silence, "Wh…what is going on?" He refused to say that Maedhros hardly contained grin was a bit unsettling. Plus the younger Fingolfion had not noticed where his brother was, "What is so funny?"

Maedhros turned away snickering. Turgon picked up a soft groan and turned to the sound. The sight astonished him so much that he was gaping.

Fingon was blushing so hard he was beet red, contributing to the color he had gained from his indignant anger. The elder son _waited_ for any response, while silently hoping Turgon would find this to his amusement.

It did.

Turgon lifted a hand to his mouth and closed his eyes, a broad smile crept on his features. Falling on his knees, laughing wheezes came out. There could be no sound other than that his amusement was so intense.

"Maitimo, you are doing something…" Fingon was alarmed at Turgon falling onto his side from the intensity. Out of brotherly concern he feared Turgon would stop breathing, "Get me out, now!"

Maedhros was holding his sides as he also soundlessly laughed and snorted.

"I'm cold!" Fingon wailed and his movements became more frantic. Gritting his teeth, not caring about how loud he was going to be, but he was _done_ being in this snow prison! "FREE FINDA! FREE FINDA!"

With quick movements both his brothers, blood and not, began pawing at the snow packed around Fingon's body. Being supported only by the snow for less than an hour and ankles and wrists bound by the mithril, he fell forward. The bindings were removed, and despite the freezing, slopping, clothes he wore, Fingon leapt to his feet dramatically, anger forgotten, and pleasantly said, "Thank you." Ever optimistic... "Can we go now?"

Turgon was still a bit breathless and could not speak, Maedhros on the other hand could, still grinning like a mad man, "Yes, let us go."

A few meters down the mountain, Turgon started singing in a low and still humored voice.

"Finda the snow-elf…

With gold woven in his braids…

And eyes that gleam like stars…

Finda the snow-elf…"

Fingon hid his face in his shirt, voice muffled as he said, "Maitimo, we are to never go across a snow field together, no matter what."

* * *

 _Additional Disclaimer: I don't own Frosty's song :)_


End file.
